Settling the Score
by Burnedtoasty
Summary: G1: Skyfire, surveying the aftermath of a recent skirmish, espies a forgotten straggler. Implied slash.


**Disclaimer**: _I, in no way, shape, or form, own the Transformers© franchise or the characters it contains. All publicly recognizable characters are copyrighted to Hasbro, and the respective artists/writers/et cetera. No infringement intended._

**Continuity**: Generation one, (G1), cartoon-verse

**Characters**: Skyfire, Starscream

**Warnings**: Past-tense slash. Could be a past-tense friendship fic, if you want to take it that way.

**Author's Note**: Criticism encouraged, technical points preferable.

--

Sometimes he wondered if there was more to the 'karma' debate than he had originally believed.

Looping back around in a tight circle, Skyfire made another pass over the jumble of boulders, scanning the ground past the wreckage of the earlier skirmish. There, a red-hued forearm rested, still half caught beneath the stone it had been trapped under. Beside it lay a smattering of no-doubt vital internal components, spread haphazardly across the earth. Laser burn marks made a pretty relief against the ruddy sandstone, black and grey soot spread by the scuffling of many feet. Many various pieces of junk and abandoned parts glittered in the retreating sunlight, forgotten bits of self that would soon be claimed by this alien desert. Decepticon or Autobot, it no longer mattered; everything had become hopelessly mingled in the fray, beyond hope or capability to allocate which bits belonged to whom.

Of course, there was only one particular piece of debris that interested him. One just as forgotten by the rest of the scrap, though marginally more valuable to both sides.

All he could see, for the moment, were two white legs, hanging over a larger boulder, the rest of the body wedged in the gap it had fallen into. Feebly, the limbs twitched, heels scrabbling at the immobile stone in a vain search for some sort of purchase.

He swooped lower, making another pass. The legs twisted, momentum sending them sliding off the rounded edge of the boulder to clang solidly against the earth. A blue hand reached up, scrabbling at the stone for leverage, followed by a badly dented intake and twisted wing. At last, with a great heave, Starscream dragged himself free, crawling away from his temporary prison to flop forward in the dirt, face down. Smoke roiled out from one of his side vents in a diaphanous stream, telling of heavy internal damage. His paint, for the most part, was scratched, red and blue and silver-white streaked with steely grey.

Mostly on instinct, Skyfire pulled up higher, out of immediate scanner range, drifting on vapors as he watched. On some level, he was amused by the turn of events, in a grim, cynical sort of way. Apparently what went around did come around once again. And he had no doubt that the notorious Air Commander was well-deserving of any pain that happened his way.

Still, as much as he tried to deny it, he felt some niggling sense of worry. After all, they had a history together. A long, turbulent, and often-times strained history, but a deep, important one nonetheless.

However, such a relationship as they had once enjoyed, of course, was null and void. Given the light of recent experience, he could assume it was all but impossible for anything new and good to rise out of the ashes of that particular pyre.

Starscream was quite on his own now, and apparently preferred it that way. It was not _Skyfire's_ concern any longer, whether the Air Commander lived or died. Whatever happened would happen, without his intervention.

Flicking a wing in dismissal, Skyfire banked away, heading toward the distant Autobot base. He had checked for any further enemy activities in the area – and had found only one leftover 'con, forgotten in the chaos of a hasty retreat. There was no further threat to his comrades here. No more reason to linger behind.

Besides, the Decepticon had gotten what he deserved. Skyfire had seen the old data tracks, recordings of past battles. He knew this was a mercy in comparison to what he had witnessed.

He was doing his duty as an Autobot loyalist by allowing a key member of the Decepticon hierarchy perish. Maybe it would be the final tilt for the war, the imbalance to herald the end of the fighting. Surely their forces could not so quickly recover from such a devastating blow. Their chain of command would crumble; the in-fighting alone would overbalance their dubious stability, fragmenting the remains of their active participants. Rank and file would dissolve, and their enemies would scatter on the solar winds.

Doubt still stubbornly adhered to him, pulling him inexorably back for another pass.

Miraculously, Starscream had managed to gain his feet, staggering out toward open ground. He drunkenly lurched and weaved, clinging desperately to whatever the nearest convenient objects were at hand to keep himself upright. He sagged against a jagged spire of stone, clearly pained, holding onto its sandy surface as if it were the only thing securing him to the land of the living.

Skyfire snorted. No. It would be better to leave him to die. He was not undeserving of such an end, ignoble as it was. Discarded out into the inhospitable expanse of dry, dusty earth, forgotten by his fellows.

Starscream, after all, knew much about abandonment.

But… then again, the Seeker had come to his aid, even though it would have been ridiculously easy to leave him to his lonely fate. Skyfire had no doubt that, had he been left to wallow in that gorge much longer, his spark would have extinguished. Sometimes his laser core still ached, remembering how close he had been to the ultimate oblivion.

It was no easy burden; to owe someone you _hated_ most your life.

Skyfire paused, tasting the word, feeling it out.

Yes, he supposed he did hate him, after a fashion. Hated him for what he was, what he had been, for all the words – both spoken and not – between them. Hated and loathed and detested him, and yet… didn't. Couldn't.

It was all rather vexing, he thought. Better to leave it as it was, and return to his new home, his new comrades, and forget what was long dead and gone. Soon enough, he would be missed, and they would send out the secondary party, in case of a Decepticon trap. He was an invaluable asset to the ground-bound Autobots, enabling them to reach locations as promptly as only the aerial-built could. They could not afford his loss, if this was some sort of strange ruse concocted by the Decepticons.

Logic screamed at him to fly back to base, to report his findings and put it out of his mind. Despite the clamor of common sense, however, he coasted downward, landing behind a large clump of stone far out of view of the laboring Seeker. Reason informed him that he was far too large and white to be clambering about as if he were a properly camouflaged scout. That didn't stop him from worming his way about, until he was in a prime position to spy on his estranged partner. Prudence told him to draw his gun… and he did.

After all, he wasn't an idiot.

"… leaving me behind. Pack of bootleg ingrates."

Reflexively, Skyfire ducked down, to avoid being seen. But there was no danger; Starscream, apparently, was deeply fascinated with his own feet, trudging in a wavering line vaguely toward the distant ocean. He dazedly swerved, one leg crumpling in a hail of sparks and coolants, sending the listing Seeker crashing into the uncaring ground. His hands scrabbled at the dirt madly, as if attacking the very earth itself for its assault on his person.

Once the sparks had ceased to arc from his knee joint, he stilled his flailing, clenching his hands. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, _ow_!" He mewled, whiny, and wearily flipped himself over to clutch at his new hurt.

Skyfire hunched as much as he could, bitterly wishing that he had taken up the offer of a new paintjob. One less stark, at the very least.

But the Seeker hadn't noticed him, as distracted with his injuries as he was. With a resigned expression of professionalism, he removed the thick plating around the jagged wound, miniature flickers of lightning dancing up from the exposed joints and wires. Glowering hatefully at the traitorous limb, he prodded and 

poked and wrenched it as close to working order as he could, grousing to himself all the while.

What little patching he could do completed, the Air Commander snagged his misshapen leg armor up from its resting place amidst the dirt, sighing, and twisted it about in his hands in a deeply philosophical manner. With a sigh, he hooked it into its appropriate position, tightening the loosened moorings, and gingerly tottered to his feet.

Grimacing, he tested his weight upon it. A spasm of pain wracked his features, then subsided. He shifted a second time, and took an experimental step to the side. Remarkably, nothing went up in smoke, nor combusted. Evidently pleased by this lack of flame, he hobbled forward, cautiously, with his arms spread wide to balance him.

"Mmph. It will do," Mumbling, he glanced upward, almost hopefully, seeking some manner of aid from on high.

When it was evident by both the silence and emptiness of the sky that he would have to simply move on his own, however, the hope crumpled back into peevish resentment. Steeling himself, he turned again to the horizon, and went on his limping away, leaving a trail of spattered energon in his wake.

Skyfire debated with himself briefly about shooting the Seeker in the back, and ending it there. Half a moment later, he regretfully set the idea aside – for one, there was no guarantee that he would hit in a vital area, and, frankly, it wasn't in his nature. Thus, hesitantly, he rose from his hiding place, picking his plodding, stealthy way downward, keeping half-crouched as if it would somehow assist him in his covert operation. The boulders, as the pair traveled along, began to shrink, becoming far more difficult to hide behind. Should the Decepticon have even casually glanced back, Skyfire had little doubt that he would be seen.

Eventually, Starscream stopped once more, at the edge of the rocky terrain, glaring upward with barely veiled menace as he wobbled in fatigue. "Come on, you louts. You have to realize I'm gone by now."

Skyfire paused, once more deliberating with logic – then made his move. With surprising grace, considering his sheer size, the Autobot darted forward, before the Air Commander even had time to register his approach, and pressed the barrel of his weapon to the back of the stunned Seeker's head, forcing it forward and down. Starscream stumbled, caught off his guard, and it was only dumb luck that managed to keep him on his feet.

"What—"

"Don't move," Skyfire rumbled, pushing harder with his gun to add emphasis to his point.

At last realizing that, indeed, it was a rather large weapon pressed so confidently to the back of his cranium, and missing at such range was a statistical impossibility, Starscream found the prudent course to take the sage advice and still himself. His mind – though reeling with shock and pain – quickly assessed his chances, probabilities for escape, and myriad of other concerns.

Skyfire reckoned, quite accurately, that the Air Commander did not like his odds in the slightest.

"Moving, I assure you, is the last thing on my mind," Said the Decepticon, slowly and carefully. He mightily resisted the urge to shift – judging by the way his maimed leg trembled – keeping stock-still. His voice was steady, if somewhat strained. "Your terms?"

"Erm…" Skyfire, quite embarrassed, ducked his head. His plan had not quite gone that far. Improvising to give himself time to cognate a better strategy, he mustered up as much of a gruff, assured accent as he could, relying on what he remembered of Ironhide's speech patterns. "Stay where you are, um, Decepticreep. Or I'll shoot."

_Well. That was pathetic_.

Starscream hesitated, thrown. His head began to marginally turn, but a quick prod from Skyfire's double barreled weapon soon ended that petty rebellion. Collecting himself, the Seeker replied stiffly, "That was a given, Autobot. I take it that's why there's a gun to the back of my head, yes?"

"Er, yes. Indeed." Skyfire's mouth screwed up in a grimace. This wasn't how he had thought it would go. But, upon reflection, had he really thought of any particular direction for this happy little reunion to go?

"My, negotiation with your lot truly is an adventure into…" Starscream broke off abruptly, and despite the firearm quite insistently pressed to his cranium and literally inches from his central processor, the Seeker pivoted about, slapping aside the barrel as he spun.

Surprised by the move, Skyfire stumbled back, retaining his grip on his weapon through sheer dumb luck. "I said to stay where you were!" he cried, taking a precious moment to glower.

Starscream wobbled, and threw his legs wider to support his listing body, gaping with incredulity. He jabbed an accusing finger at the shuttle, screeching, "_Skyfire_?"

It was difficult to interpret the tone; it was either an insult or disbelieving, appalled invocation. In either case, it was hardly a flattering timbre to use. Beginning to protest such, Skyfire opened his mouth, and promptly realized his mistake far too late, hastily jerking his weapon back into line with Starscream's head.

Unfortunately, the Seeker had, of course, already lifted his null-rays to meet Skyfire's threat. And the Decepticon's aim was, by far, much more steady.

This was not at all how it was supposed to go.

Skyfire calculated the Decepticon's chance of missing at such a range. The odds, understandably, did not bode well. Even when powered to only minimal output, null rays could do much havoc if placed in the correct way. Enough time for the Decepticon to make his escape, while Skyfire lay helpless. Or perhaps even to pillage Skyfire's parts to fix his own damaged body.

But, on the other hand, even a low setting could send the Seeker into stasis lock, draining the last of his reserves. And, even as a nominally pacifistic being, Skyfire's probability of scoring a direct hit at this range was all but assured.

In short, they were at an impasse.

Time to make a gamble.

"It doesn't have to be this way."

Starscream hesitated, emotions flitting across his all-too-readable face with hardly a pause between. "What do you mean? Trying to convince me to join up ranks with your lot?"

"No," He began, putting as much confidence as he could muster into his voice. He hoped he had the tone down correctly; the wrong word, the wrong inflection, could easily send Starscream – as metaphorically cornered as the Decepticon was – into a fit. "You're exhausted. I doubt you have enough energy for any sort of firefight, and more damage will likely send you into stasis. You're radio must be damaged or jammed, or you would have called in already."

Starscream remained silent, which was answer enough. Skyfire felt relief – his presumptions had proven correct.

"You've already figured out you won't make it there on your own. And there's no guarantee that, even if you wait here, that they'll come back all this way to fetch you. Or that they know you're gone."

The Seeker's lips twisted in distaste, and he spat, "Your point, Autobot?" not lowering his weapons in the slightest.

Skyfire, considering the twin barrels, set his mouth in a grim line. "I'm your only chance."

Starscream's barked a wry, sharp laugh. "Oh. Oh, that _is_ rich." It might have been a tremor that moved his arm, or a readjustment of his aim. In either case, the null rays remained too much a hazard for Skyfire's liking.

"I can get you to your base." He tried, growing desperate. His sensors were already prickling, warning of a 

blow that had yet to come. "It's a long way to walk. Alone. In hostile territory."

There was not even a moment of consideration. Starscream's expression shifted into a hateful sneer, and his optics flared hell-bright. "How noble of you. And what's to stop you from handing me over to your oh-so-compassionate comrades?"

"Nothing's stopping me," Skyfire admitted freely, seeing no point in denying the obvious. "But, then again, nothing's stopping me from shooting you either."

Starscream considered the scientist, uncertain, but clearly processing it through, analyzing Skyfire's every word and action to this point. He shifted his weight – slightly – and a ghost of pain flickered across his optics. Perhaps to stall, perhaps to redirect his attention, he hissed, "Do you _really_ expect me to trust you?"

Skyfire chose his words carefully. "No. I expect you to do whatever it takes to come out alive."

For a few, precious moments, they hovered on the edge, each unwilling to be the first to cede in the stalemate. But, in the end, exhaustion and pragmatism won out; Starscream allowed his arms to slowly lower, Skyfire matching his pace inch for inch, until they mutually aimed toward the dust and grit.

"Hmph. Indeed."

Starscream stared down his former partner, still too proud, to arrogant, to give a second surrender.

Knowing this, Skyfire transformed without a word, opening his hatch. \_Get in_.\

Awkwardly, Starscream took a step, optics flicking warily across Skyfire's form, as if he expected raving mad Autobots to come pouring out of every seam and gap at any moment. "Why… why are you doing this?" The Seeker rasped, trying very hard to appear in command of the situation and failing quite badly.

Skyfire deliberated with himself on just how much he was willing to concede to honesty. After a pause only a scant few astroseconds too long, he allowed, \_I owe you_.\

"For _what_? I've done nothing to aid you." Starscream snapped, insulted by the very notion.

_\You saved me, back in the gorge. I don't like owing you a favor,\_ Perhaps it was a sincere answer; perhaps not. It likely would have been easier to decide if Skyfire knew the answer himself.

"_Saved you_? I did nothing of the sort!" scoffed the Decepticon, tossing his head aside dismissively. "It seems that the Autobots are as corrosive to basic intelligence as ever."

Had he been capable, Skyfire would have frowned. \_The signal_—\

"My energy levels were lower than I expected." Starscream cut him off, frame going stiff with indignation. "I was going to shoot you just as soon as they were in sight. Unfortunately, prudence dictated that, as general depletion had reached a critical level, I would temporarily spare you. Altruism, I can assure you, had nothing to do with it."

_\Happy coincidence, then. In any case, whatever your intentions, they preserved my life_.\ Skyfire rumbled, words clipped. \_Use the opportunity or not; I won't idle here all day while you make up your mind_.\

Starscream glowered, flicking his optics once more to the sky… and reluctantly trudged inside. "Very well. If anything, I can sabotage you on the way down."

_\You're such pleasant company_.\

"The feeling, I can assure you, is mutual."

--

This, he had come to realize over the long and silent trip, was why he should never give in to reckless impulse. Irrational urges or no, he should have realized his duty and followed upon its mandates immediately, forsaking the Decepticon to whatever fate awaited him.

Keeping half his processing capacity on the outside world, Skyfire turned his more immediate attention inward, for the umpteenth time. With a sight that was not quite _seeing_, Skyfire examined the weary Decepticon lounging on his floor, very aware of the position of the null-ray barrels set ever-so-innocently against his plating. He did not think any sane creature would sabotage his only secure hope of rescue, but, then again, 'sane' and 'Starscream' could hardly ever be used in the same sentence without a logic center malfunction.

His paranoia, thus far, seemed unwarranted, which, of course, only roused his suspicions further.

Flicking his attention back outward, Skyfire tracked their progress, and how long until they came upon the shoreline beside the submerged Decepticon headquarters. Only breems left of this madness; a while longer before he could set his thrusters and leave his unwanted companion to his comrades' tender care.

_Sometimes_, he thought, _I really am an idiot._

\_We're nearly there_,\ he said, breaking the restful quiet.

Starscream shifted in response to his voice, optics onlining to a rosy flush of red. "Why them?" he asked the section of plating between his barrels, quite calm, considering his usual response when anywhere near the sensitive subject.

Skyfire hesitated, not expecting the turn of conversation. It would have been easier if Starscream had remained sullen and silent, he thought, rather than bring up the awkwardness that hung so palpably between them. \_I am not a fighting mechanism. You yourself know this_.\ _You_ should _have known this_.

"They are going to lose. They don't have the will to do what is necessary," the Air Commander said, resting his head against Skyfire's side. "You'll be executed along with most of them. If you hadn't first defected, you might have been eligible for reprogramming. As it stands… well, it's unlikely to be a quick ending that awaits you."

\_It might come to that, yes_,\ Skyfire replied, after a moment of consideration. \_But I stand by my choice_.\

"Why?"

\_It was the right one_.\

Starscream hissed, lip curling in distaste. "Such stupid Autobot sentiment." And he said no more, leaving Skyfire to his own thoughts.

The shore came into view, the white line of sand a welcome relief. Skyfire slow himself, gradually descending for a gentle landing. He bounced slightly on the unfamiliar, irregular terrain, and sank, leaving a great depression in the sand.

A few words flashed through his processor, things he might have said in parting. A farewell, an insult, a plea – but, in the end, he chose silence. Whatever he wanted to say could wait. He didn't trust himself to speak now, here. Thus, he opened his hatch, keeping one scanner turned in the direction of the sunken _Nemesis_.

Starscream rose slowly from the floor, keeping one arm raised just enough that the merest of twitches would line up his aim with Skyfire's controls. Cautiously, he exited, turning to keep the shuttle in his sights.

Wary of moving before the null rays were lowered, Skyfire stayed as he was, waiting. Surely, any moment, he would feel the residual ping of a close range radio hailing, and likely would be forced to flee with a hail of laser fire as his parting gift. Resigning himself to the price of charity, he grumbled, \_Well? Are you going to shoot me after all_?\  


Starscream reallocated his weight, and didn't lower his arms. Drawing his chin up, the listing Seeker sneered, "I should have known you'd be too weak to be a Decepticon. We should have left you in the ice."

Anger skirled through Skyfire, running from end to end of his body. His engines roared, jangling the startled Air Commander, and he could not find it in him to be sorry when Starscream fell over on his aft in a spray of sand. He transformed, rising up to loom over the downed Seeker, hands clenched tight. "Well." He growled, a terse little snap that was so much more intimidating than a shout. "_You_ would know all there is of 'weakness'. We have all seen the way you cower and mince about Megatron. Being weak, it seems, is a very great part of being a Decepticon."

"You, _you_—" Starscream's wings rattled, and he scrambled to his feet, an ugly snarl on his face. "I should kill you now, traitor!"

"What's to stop you? You, after all, don't suffer stupid Autobot sentimentality," Skyfire replied, nearly quivering with anger. "Hail your base. Shoot me. Show me what it takes to win, Starscream." _Prove you're a monster so I can leave this all behind_.

For a few long, tense seconds, Skyfire was certain he was going to do it. Rage was writ large across his face, screaming from every line and angle of his body. But for his shaking, he did not move, optics fixed as twin points of hate upon Skyfire's. "Leave, Autobot," He said, voice all but a whisper. "Leave now."

Skyfire hesitated, surprised. He opened his mouth—

And danced back as laser fire burned the sand around his feet, droplets of molten glass showering his legs in a hellish rain.

"Leave! Go, _Pit take you_!" Screamed the Decepticon, wobbling. He went down on one knee, shaking.

Skyfire, without hesitation, turned, and fled, taking off into the safety the skies promised, turning his nosecone toward home, leaving the Air Commander shrieking on the beach behind him.

He tried to ignore the static that sounded very much like a sob.


End file.
